Homepage One
All True Tales
Artistic Dreams
AsianArt Page 1
AsianArt Page 2
AsianArt Page 3
Chinese Whisper
Classic Poems
Cloud Dreams
Colourful Tales
Confucius Say
Confucius 2
Confucius 3
Dodies Diets.
Dodies Kitchen
Dodie's Mood
Dodie's World
Dragon World
Dragons Life
Dream - Wishes
Japanese Art 2
Goblins Delight
Elfs an Icicles
Japanese Art
Life Knowledge
Music and Film
Mystery A go-go
Nursery Rhymes
Painted Winds
Rhymes Inc.
Studio Ghibli
Photo Albums
Dodies Profile
Dodie's Dream World - Complete Chaos! xxx
Subscribe: Add to Google Add to My Yahoo! Subscribe in NewsGator Online Add to My AOL

Tue, 23 Aug 2011
I will allow you to shed a tear or two as you read this father's tale. Dodie xxx


As usual my wonderful husband scoured the local car boot sale recently and found for me some amazing books. One of them in particular was written by Robert W. Service its title Rhymes of a Red Cross Man and goodness me I have read some poetry of World War I but this book has some of the most heart rendering verses I have read for many a year. There is no Fantasy in this piece of poetry I am about to type, just fact.... I hope you feel the heart ache of this father whose son was so cruelly taken in 1916.

It brings me a lot closer to August 2011 and the recent riots in the UK. Maybe conscription should be brought back but I wonder how many of the youth of today would go to fight for their country as this young lad of 17 did almost a hundred years ago.

                  Young Fellow My Lad

"Where are you going, young fellow my lad, on this glittering morn of May?"

"I'm going to join the colours, dad; there looking for men they say."

"But you're only a boy, young fellow my lad; you aren't obliged to go."

"I'm seventeen and a quarter, dad, and ever so strong, you know."

   *                    *                       *                       *                       *                        *

"So you're off to France, young fellow my lad, and your looking so fit and bright."

"I'm terribly sorry to leave you dad, but I feel that I'm doing right."

"God bless you and keep you, young fellow my lad, you're all of my life you know."

"Don't worry. I'll soon be back, dear dad, and I'm awfully proud to go."

    *                        *                       *                      *                    *                        *

"Why don't you write, young fellow my lad? I watch for the post each day;

And I miss you so, and I'm awfully sad, and it's months since you went away.

And I've kept a fire in the parlour lit, and I'm keeping it burning bright

Till my boy comes home; and there I sit into the quiet night."

    *                      *                         *                           *                      *                     *

"What is the matter, young fellow my lad? No letter again today.

Why did the postman look so sad, and sigh as he turned away?

I hear them tell that we've gained new ground, but a terrible price we've paid.

God grant, my boy, that you're safe and sound; but Oh ! I'm afraid, afraid."

   *                      *                          *                            *                        *                         *

"They've told me the truth, young fellow my lad : You'll never come back again ;

(Oh God ! the dreams and the dreams I've had, and the hopes I've nursed in vain! )

For you passed in the night young fellow my lad, and you proved in the cruel test

Of the screaming shell and the battle-hell that my boy was one of the best."

   *                      *                           *                            *                            *                     *

"So you'll live, you'll live, young fellow my lad, in the gleam of the evening star,

In the wood note wild and the laugh of a child, in all sweet things that are.

And you'll never die, my wonderful boy, while life is noble and true,

For all our beauty  and peace and joy we will owe to our lads like you.",,

Robert W. Service was born in Preston, Lancashire, England, the first of ten children. His father, also Robert Service, was a banker from Kilwinning, Scotland who had been transferred to England.  At five years old Robert W. Service went to live in Kilwinning with his three maiden aunts and his paternal grandfather, who was the town's postmaster. There he is said to have composed his first verse, a grace, on his sixth birthday:

Robert W. ServiceGod bless the cakes and bless the jam;
Bless the cheese and the cold boiled ham:
Bless the scones Aunt Jeannie makes,
And save us all from bellyaches. Amen

At nine Service rejoined his parents who had moved to Glasgow. He attended Glasgow's Hillhead High School.         

 "Service worked in a bank after he left school"    he joined the Commercial Bank of Scotland which today is the Royal Bank of Scotland"). He was writing at this time and reportedly already "selling his verses". 

He moved to Canada at the age of 21 and travelled to Vancouver Island, British Columbia with his Buffalo Bill outfit and dreams of becoming a cowboy. He drifted around western North America, "wandering from California to British Columbia," taking and quitting a series of jobs: "Starving in Mexico, residing in a California bordello, farming on Vancouver Island and pursuing unrequited love in Vancouver."

Posted 03:43

No comments

Post a Comment:

site  zoomshare